Transformers Unlocked Arc One
by nightwing 132
Summary: Patrolling the desert is a wonderful thing - you meet new people, see new things, discover your dimension is falling apart... Wait, what? Arcee would have never guessed taking a patrol for Hound would have gone so... messily? There are not enough Genres.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a co-written work. I have been given permission by TheAzureDolphin to upload this onto my account. This is Part One of a multi-part epic. More information will be uploaded soon. For now, enjoy the show, and tell us what you think!

Warning: Will make you laugh, cry, wet yourself, whatever. Depends on (edited) you.

Disclaimer: Transformers is all to Hasbro. You lucky schumcks, why didn't we think of this!

* * *

Chapter 1

The last thing Jazz remembered doing was fighting Starscream's very-annoying femme clone known as Slipstream. Then a flash of blinding light and now he was in a desert. He got up and noticed he was alone; _that_ was never a good sign. At first, he thought he was teleported by a random transwarp frequency wave, and then quickly discarded that thought, because he knew he didn't have anything pertaining to a space bridge on him. He checked his scanners for any sign of another Cybertronian.

He found one; it was about four kliks away. He transformed into his sleek Corvette-like alt. mode and made for it, hoping it was a fellow Autobot.

* * *

Arcee was on patrol; she had been in the rec room when Hound asked her to take his shift. She had nothing better to do so she had accepted it. Now she regretted it as she picked up a signal on her sensors. She would have called for backup, but what stopped her was the strange anomaly that had suddenly come from the Key. She wasn't sure what to do at that point, because Optimus, Prowl, and Jazz had mysteriously disappeared without further instructions. They also weren't there to consult, and she couldn't abandon her patrol to find Bumblebee either.

She noticed that the signal was getting closer. She stopped and transformed into her robot mode as she waited for whoever it may be.

She didn't have to wait long.

It seemed like Jazz, but… the signal was a bit strange. Not like the one she usually picked up when she was on a mission with him. She waited as the bot stopped in front of her and initiated the transformation sequence back to robot mode.

* * *

As he pulled to a stop, what struck him first was confusion and then recognition as he transformed. The femme looked like Arcee, but he wasn't too sure. "Arcee?" he asked carefully.

As soon as he said her name, she knew it must've been Jazz, but he looked different. Especially his face. For one, his chin was _enormous_; but what caught her attention more was the arrow pointing to his lower… erm, region. She tried to ignore that, failed, then moved on. "Jazz?" she asked experimentally. "But you're not Jazz… are you?"

Jazz looked at her as if she had just asked what shape Cybertron was. "What're ya talkin' 'bout?" he asked, mildly confused. "I am Jazz, th' One an' only!"

Arcee regarded the white mech in front of her quietly. "You talk like him. You kinda look like him. But… there's something a little off with you." She narrowed her optics before carefully stroking her chin in thought. She paused, looked at her hand, and elongated her stroking. Yep, that was it.

"I can see that."

"Oh! Uhm, well, ah…. This just got kinda awkward."

"Yep, yep it did," Jazz whistled softly, before casting a look about the desert. Sand… sand… and more sand~! Yep, definitely a desert. A sandy one to be precise, complete with cacti, a scenic mountain, a crashed ship in said mountain…

_Waitjustaminutehere._

"Well, nice real estate ya got 'ere," Jazz commented carelessly, waving his hand in the air before finally pointing to the distant ship.

"Yeah," Arcee replied, not sure what else to say to that. She glanced at the Ark out of the corner of her peripheral vision briefly, before returning her full attention back to this lanky and big-chinned Jazz.

And then she wondered what was tall and white in the middle of the desert, a sea of millions of shades of _the same brown_.

Well, that could present a problem.

"_Hey, du-u-udes!_"

Arcee jumped several feet in the air before landing neatly in Jazz's arms. Jazz eyed (opticed?) the femme oddly before asking in a joking manner, "Ya come 'ere of'en?"

"Naturally," Arcee countered, before stepping out of the mech's arms carefully. She saw Jazz go rigid before she turned to the voice that had so rudely interrupted the already awkward situation. She let loose a cry before drawing her weapon and aiming it at the white Transformer that looked strangely like none-other than the Decepticon Communications Officer.

"You're white," Arcee said carefully, now repositioning her weapon so that if it went off it would hit him, not her.

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa, dudette_. Racism is wrong," the Soundwave said, holding his hands in the air defensively. "If I'm something I'm… I'm, well, I guess I_ am _white, now that I look at me." He glanced down, lifting up his left leg as if to look at it better. "Aw, man, dude, poor lizard. My 'pologies, lizard-dude."

Arcee looked at Jazz as if for an answer. The chilin' mech looked about as confused as she did. "On the count of three?" he suddenly asked.

"Hunh?"

"Ya know. On the count of three."

"Oh, sure. Oooone…"

"Twooooo…"

"_Three, dudes_!"

"Ahh! He's gonna attack!" Arcee cried, running behind the nearest boulder for the appropriate cover to fire from. She aimed her rifle at the white Soundwave, but he just stood there, looking as confused as someone with a hidden face could look.

"What's up with her, dude?" the strange Soundwave asked Jazz.

"I dunno, dude," Jazz replied with a shrug.

There was a pause… and then….

"Dude!"

"Du-u-ude."

"Duuude!"

"Duuu-uuuu-uuuude."

"Well, that was…fun…" Jazz finally commented, stopping the dude-fest. "But we should probably figure out… Well, first, what-slash-who are you?"

"Awww, du-ude, I'm Soundwave, the heroic Decepticon Communications Officer! … Dude!"

"H-heroic…? Welllll, rightie-o."

"I claim Tom-foolery!" Arcee cried from behind her boulder. "Decepticons? Heroic! Everyone knows that's an oxymoron!"

"Arcee," Jazz began carefully, "A villain is never a villain in his own optics. The Decepticons wouldn't know that because they think they're doing right. Erm, sorta."

The only response was a loud _hurrumpf_.

Jazz sighed before turning back to the most-_definitely_-by-now-odd Soundwave, who was picking up something from the desert floor.

"Whatcha got?" Jazz asked, walking slightly closer to get a better look.

"Aw, dude, sorry, can't tell ya. Top secret, hushie-hushie," came the oddly pleasant sounding response. "I first picked up its signal offa the dudette, so ask her what she dropped."

* * *

Arcee was _not_ happy.

Was. Not. _Happy_.

First, that weird, big-chinned Jazz showed up. Then the Soundwave that looked-like-Soundwave-sorta but most-definitely-did-not-act-like-Soundwave showed up, too.

And now she felt like something was _missing_.

But she couldn't figure out _what_.

She felt around in subspace, which got awkward when she accidentally brushed against someone else's hand, but she still couldn't figure it out. Nope, all she learned from that was that there was a hole in her personal subspace.

_That_ couldn't be good at all.

She put her fingers to her lips, carefully thinking of anything, _anything_ that she might've possibly lost track of….

_The Key!_

"Oh, no…."she groaned, holding her head.

She pulled out her rifle, made sure the cell was charged, made sure the safety was off… made sure she wasn't dreaming by pinching herself… then realized that didn't work for her kind.

Bashing her head against the rock and starting this scenario over sounded _pretty_ nice right now.

She took a deep intake to cool her systems before hurling herself over the boulder, a savage war cry escaping her vocal processor.

"Ar-Arcee!"

"Aw-aw, duuude!"

The two white mechs jumped back from the pink blur as she came hurtling over the boulder.

"Give me back the Key before I do something I _really_ do not want to do!" she yelled. She really wished Bumblebee were here right now.

"Dudette, don't do anything rash," Soundwave cautioned.

"Yeah… what Mister Opposite over 'ere said," Jazz carefully agreed. "Don't do anythin' 'orrible an' irrevocable."

"Dude, irrevocable would be _bad_."

"E_xactly_."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N(s): TAD: Yeah, hey, gang. I'm sorry about everything being so confusing - the things you were asking about were NOT what I had in mind for the confusion. The prelude should be up soon to answer any questions you may have (as well as explain back up continuity). You can thank Mossy/Nightwing for any premature confusion you may have experienced. (She insisted it be posted up early.) Also, this Arc takes place in the G1-verse (an AU version, anyways).

Suggestions/critiques are always welcome.

* * *

"Hey, dudette, you like cats?" Soundwave asked randomly, hands still in the air. "Little kitties, cuddly 'n' cute?"

Arcee raised an optic ridge. "You're not going to do what I think you're going to do, are you?"

"Whaddaya think I'm going to do, dudette?" said the not-Soundwave. She couldn't see his face, but she could practically hear the smile in his voice. _Argh._

The lanky Jazz looked confused at this. "What're ya two talkin' about?" he asked, then turned to Arcee. "What's 'e gonna do?"

The femme's face was set. "Eject Ravage." She jumped, and saw Jazz do the same, as a loud sound of glee came from _inside_ the not-Soundwave.

"Aw, dudes," he muttered, doubling over, "I think this must be what gas feels like." He pulled up at the front of his chassis and, lo and behold, out jumped an incredibly large feline. An incredibly large _white_ feline.

Arcee couldn't really comprehend that, though, for she had been pinned on the desert floor, flailing her arms. Oh, the drill sergeant back on Cybertron would _love_ this: his star pupil rolling in the dirt against a _cat_ half her _size_.

"Off, off!" she commanded, wildly tugging at its paws. She paused, suddenly very tired and realizing how stupidly absurd all this was, when she also realized something very... different.

_Kitty kisses._

_What the slag? _she thought.

Jazz, on the other hand, had lifted up his leg close to his body, arms out for balance. "Whoa, whoa!" he exclaimed, trying to keep his cool, but the confusion slipping out. "Where did that come from? What _is_ it?"

"Hey, little dude, come offa the dudette - she's hip."

"Aw, okies," the feline purred, stepping off Arcee, but not without a final, sloppy lick. She sat up, looking at the blue and white feline and his white van master.

_Oh my Primus_, she thought, _the world's totally gone haywire in under ten minutes._

"Awright, little dude," Soundwave said, bending down to the cheerful-cheerful!-Ravage. The mech continued on, whispering something, and handing it...

_The Key!_

Arcee narrowed her optics, planning several ways to get it back, before Soundwave stood and, funnily enough, waved at them. "Gotta go, dudes," he said. "Might be back later, soonish. Hang ten, and all that jazz." He paused, before turning to the lanky Jazz and saying, "Well, ya know what I mean." He transformed and drove off, leaving the white Ravage behind.

The feline was waving enthusiastically, before turning around and facing Jazz and Arcee, continuing to wave. After a while of this, he said, "Hi! I'm wavin' at chu, do u see me?" He began to laugh, spouting "Lolz!" as he did so. Before Arcee could point out that they could in fact see him, he went on. "How r u? I'm Ravage, but a lot of peoplez call me Wavage." He perked up, going on. "I think it's cuz they think I'm cute. They go 'kawaii desu!one!'" He paused, taking another cycle of cooling, Arcee guessed, before finally saying, "Whut's that mean, anywayz?"

"Vector Sigma," Arcee sighed, "If some divine force makes it speak in a language I understand, I swear, I'll stop helping the twins tick off Ratchet."

Jazz gave her an amused look. "I understood 'im jus' fine," he said, shrugging.

"You're either lying, or..."

"Or I'm stupid?"

"No, no, not... quite the adjective I imagined," Arcee muttered. "Where have I heard that before?"

"Yo're stroking yo'r chin again."

"It's subconcious, I swear! I mean no offense!"

"Weeeell, at least I'm not as bad as my superior..." Jazz said enigmatically, shuddering at the thought. "Man, I'd get that thing checked out, ya feelin' me?"

"Uhm, if I saw it, I might," Arcee said uncertainly. If his superior's chin was enough to make this big-chinned Jazz freak, she wasn't really sure she wanted to see it herself.

"We're feelin' each other?" Ravage asked, oddly excited. "Can I get a belly wub, then?"

Arcee gave the feline a strange look. He was so oddly cute, but also so odd in general. She reached out a hand and Ravage opened his mouth in an excited grin before rolling over on his back and wiggling his rump. Dang, _that_ was adorable. She placed a hand on his belly and rubbed rapidly. She wasn't sure that was supposed to work, in the logic of it all, but the wiggling increased and he made happy chirpping sounds.

Dang, _that_ was awkward.

Out of the corner of her optic, she saw Jazz bend down and scratch the cat's chin, causing the back left leg to kick. "Oh, oh, oh, oh! Right there, right there! Oooooooh~!"

Jazz laughed, before noticing an odd thing on the ground.

It was cracked and an odd brownish-orange, oval in shape, with prongs coming out of one end. There were odd, darker patches on it, that, the more he looked at it, the more he realized they formed lines. But what _was_ it? "Arcee," he began, before the feline lept up and turned to them with a grin on his face, somehow.

"Geetwogee," he purred, before sprinting off. "And thnx four all the fish!" he called over his shoulder.

"... Fish?" Arcee asked, dubious.

"Yeah, 'e lost me on that on'," Jazz admitted.

"Now, what were you saying, Jazz?" she asked, sighing. It felt weird to call him that, but since there wasn't really a choice...

"What's this?" he asked, picking up an object off the desert floor.

It took Arcee five seconds too long to register what the object was, before flinging herself at Jazz. "_Don't touch it!_" she screeched, "_You'll get shocked, just like the others!_"

She landed on top of him, the Key flying just out of arm's reach. She looked at the Key, before looking at Jazz. "Not a word," she warned.

"Man," was Jazz's only response. Arcee scrambled off him, before grabbing the Key and eyeing Jazz. He _looked_ okay, but she knew very well that looks could be deceiving.

"I didn' feel a shock," Jazz said, feeling his arms and legs, before checking his faux pulse. "Not even a slight zap." He gave Arcee a look she couldn't identify, what with his eyes being hidden behind the glass mask. "Should I 'ave?" he asked, suspicious.

_He's just as smart as our Jazz_, she realized. _As easy-going, as intellegent. There was no way I could have assumed he wouldn't ask _why.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: TAD: We liiive! Sorry about the hiatus. We were trying to work on the prelude to this, so you'd understand better, but it just kinda... didn't go well. We have part one of the prelude coming up, though, so hopefully your questions about things that should have been answered come soon!

* * *

Jazz stood next to her, but she didn't feel afraid. She felt... secure. He was a source of comfort, and maybe that's why when he took the Key from her, she didn't object.

He was staring at it, moving it between his fingers, across his palms. It felt mystical, something he couldn't explain, and he was sure no one was suppose to. And when he felt this, he was suddenly aware of what power it must hold, and how much that power should not fall into the wrong hands. _Well, then, I'll jus' make sure that doe'n't happen!_

Arcee sighed, glancing around the desert, before noticing a dust cloud on the horizon. She smiled when she saw a familiar yellow bug at the center of it. "My friend's here," she alerted Jazz, gesturing an arm in the direction of the dust cloud.

Jazz leaned forward, and she could imagine him squinting behind the visor. He smiled, turned to a boulder and sat. Just sat there, chillin'. Arcee, after a moment's hesitation, joined him on the boulder, kicking her legs out.

She debated telling Jazz about the Key now, but, to be honest with herself, she wasn't totally sure that what she _thought_ the Key was was necessarily _exactly_ what it was. So Arcee said nothing and Jazz still sat there as he was, waiting patiently.

The yellow bug drove up, stopping and transforming in one fluid movement. The mech turned and looked at the two sitting on the rock, giving a wary smile. "H-hey," he greeted.

"Hey, 'Bee!" Arcee chimed, waving an arm. She paused before gesturing to the mech beside her. "This is Jazz! But not our Jazz, he comes from a different universe! Now, don't freak out about it, 'Bee, cuz I know it sounds really weird."

She saw his face twist oddly. "A... different universe?"

"Yep! They have-! Uhm, y'know," she raised a hand and made exaggerated motions by her chin.

Jazz took in a sharp intake. "I still see that," he said softly.

"Oh! Uhm... Well." She saw her comrade looking at the Key in Jazz's hands. Realizing this might seem odd to him, she gently removed the Key from the mech's hands.

Or, at least, she tried to. But his fingers were firm, and she couldn't pull it from him. She mimiced a facial experssion some humans do when uncertain: she bit her lip. _Jazz_, she mentally willed him, _please give me the Key!_

But her silent plea went ignored, as the cool 'bot simply stared at Bumblebee. Or maybe he wasn't. The visor made it awfully hard to tell.

Bumblebee was oblivious to Jazz's appearent protectiveness of the Key. He turned to Arcee and asked, "Have we taken the Key to-to Prime, by any chance? I've kinda... kinda forgotten."

She pulled a face. "Yeah, yeah, we have," she responded. She gave her friend a concerned look. "Are you okay, 'Bee? Do you need to see Ratchet?"

"Do you remember what Prime said?" Bumblebee asked, flinching as he did so. "I mean, he-he gave us words of wisdom, right?"

She saw Jazz stiffening out of the corner of her optic. "Gee, 'Bee, I'm sorry, but I can't remember," she apologized. "I... I think you were the only one there. Yeah! Cuz I don't think you'd shown it to me yet, at the time."

"Oh," was the yellow bug's response. He fidgeted, casting a glance around the desert.

_Like he's afraid of something._ Jazz shifted slightly, still keeping his grasp strong on the Key, still keeping his optics on Bumblebee. _I don't like this at all._

"Maybe I should take it back to Prime," Bumblebee suggested, taking a step forward.

"I don't see why, 'Bee." Arcee shrugged, oblivious. "He's already seen it."

"I know, but-but I think maybe someone else could better take care of it. You-you know. Like Ironhide, or someone."

"But, 'Bee," Arcee protested. "Everyone else gets shocked by the Key. We have to watch out for-"

"He doesn't get shocked by the Key," her friend said darkly.

Arcee paused, realizing Bumblebee was right. Why could _this_ Jazz touch the Key, when their own Jazz couldn't?

She glanced at Jazz, about to ask his opinion on the matter when she realized there was a business-like air about him. His faceplates where set in a determined line, and his head was tilted forward slightly.

"I don' trust ya."

It was amazing what four words could do.

"Wh-what do you mean, you don't trust me?" Bumblebee's face contorted to that of surprise.

"Yeah, what do you mean, you don't trust him?" Arcee added, her face showing the most confusion.

"What I mean is, you can't be the real Bumblebee," Jazz elaborated, his face grim, his visor dark. "If I know Bumblebee, 'e's happy-go-lucky; doesn' 'ave a care in th' world. You, on th' other hand, are stutterin' like mad, and that last thin' you said didn' sound very Autobot-like."

_He doesn't get shocked by the Key._ Of course, perhaps not the words. It's not always the words one should pay attention to. It's how one says them.

It all happened very quickly at that point, or perhaps Arcee was merely shocked that it happened at all. It seemed to begin in slow motion. She saw her "friend" stiffen and then leap forward, arms outstretched. She felt those arms grap her and whirl her around with strength she was sure Bumblebee did not normally possess. Could he normally hold her in place like this?

Perhaps it was not "could" she should be asking herself, but "would".

She felt the barrel of a blaster press against her. But where? Her head, her back? Her sensors were so bogged down by the - the - shock! The shock kept her from realizing everything going on... Everything was in a fog, where movements were slow, but fast, and audio was selective.

"Give me the Key!" The hiss slashed into the heavy fog like a blade. "Give it to me, or_ heads. Will. Roll!_"


	4. Chapter 4

"Give it to me, or_ heads. Will. Roll!_"

"I like my head right where it is," Arcee gritted through her dentae, before promptly meeting her elbow and "Bumblebee's" shoulder. She felt the barrel of the blaster disappear and she danced away, scrambling for distance.

Jazz took this opportunity as it were, placed the Key down, and charged the yellow mini-bot, a yell of determination escaping him. The other mech, shocked at this turn of events, stood there as Jazz made his rapid approach. At the last nano-klick, the ninjabot saw his target try ducking to the side, and adjusted his course appropriately. The dodge, while not complete, still kept Jazz's full blow from striking; however, he managed to clip "Bumblebee's" shoulder, the same one Arcee has previously struck. The small bot sputtered curses madly as he struggled to gain footing on the shifting sands.

"What did you do to the real Bumblebee?" Arcee demanded, taking threatening steps forward. Her faceplates and fists were clenched tightly; her anger of being fooled so easily and the worry for her friend was prooving a hazardous mix in her processor.

As the false Autobot opened his mouth to respond, Jazz charged again, aiming for his opponent's chest. However, the strange mech was expecting him this time. A yellow blur, he dashed backwards, and Jazz's tackle fell short. A cry was let loose-was it him? As Jazz stumbled back and recalled immediate memory, he realized it must have been him. A black fist coming straight at his optics. When he gauged a relatively safe distance away from "Bumblebee", he carefully onlined his left optic, only to shut it off again after recieving too much light.

_Fragger broke my visor_, he realized. _Man, uncool. Only got on' o' them, too. Dang._

"If you must know," came a jeer from somewhere in front of him, "Your Bumblebee is, how shall I say? _Gone._"

Arcee wasn't really aware of what happened. She rememebr running, sure, but she wasn't entirely aware it was her attempting to land blows on what she thought was her friend. As soon as her logic nodes kicked back in, she slipped behind the stranger. She ducked behind him again when he turned around to face her, this time lunging forwards and grabbing him from behind, her arms tightening around his shoulders. With a grunt, Arcee lifted the imposter off his feet. She felt his legs kick against her in a bid to make her let go; it only servered as a minor annoyance.

Eventually, the imposter stopped kicking, cycling heavily. "Y-you know," he managed to get out, "You only hurt him, when you try to hurt me."

Arcee wisely said nothing. Instead, she eyed Jazz coming around, trying to stare this offender in the face. "Ya broke my visor," the white mech said stiffly. "This on' was my fav'rite."

"Oh, boo hoo!" jeered the imposter, lashing out with a leg, aiming vaguely for Jazz. The ninjabot danced out of the swing, and took the imposter's leg in his hands. "H-hey! Leggo!"

"Don' kick me."

"Okay, okay, yeesh! Look! I'm helpless! Defenseless! Harmless!" At Jazz's silence at that, he added, "Well, mostly."

As Jazz rather hesitantly released the mech's leg, Arcee let out a cry. "Bumblebee's" shoulder had given out, slipping from her arms. Jazz found himself leaping forward at the downed mech, but there was another yellow blur as his target dashed up and away.

Arcee charged after the mech, but the yellow minibot leveled a blaster at her. "No farther!" he ordered. "No farther, or I blow you away!" His visage twisted in a horrible way. "You might've found me out, but you found me out way too late! Your head may not roll now, but the plan's in motion! You're all as good as _finished_... _**Over**_!"

With that, he turned on his heel, transformed, and wobbled away. Arcee lept forward, but was jerked back by Jazz. She whipped about to face him, but his face was understanding. Then why had he held her back?

"Let me go," she insisted, trying to pull away. "He's mine."

Jazz shook his head. "There's no point 'n' goin' after an enemy if he's already retreatin'," he said simply. "I understan' ya wanna go after 'im, but he's gonna be pulling all the stops to get away from ya." He smiled, alomst dryly. "Best to catch 'im off his guard, ya dig?"

It was a bit of an awkward moment. Arcee was astounded again by the similarities of this Jazz and her own. Staring at the floor for lack of a response, Arcee also found that he had a point; whoever that was, he'd be positively _expecting_ them to follow, and would be accordingly ready. "Yeah, I 'dig'," she sighed, looking up at him.

His visor... A hole showed itself at the corner of the left side, cracks spiderwebbing away from it. It must have made it difficult to see; Arcee knew it would have bothered _her_, even if she could see through it.

"Your optics," she began, almost shyly, "do they, ah, trouble you?"

"A li'l," Jazz said carelessly, waving an arm to indicate it was all good. "I'm gonna need anoth'r visor, though." He lightly touched the cracks on the blue glass, frowning when he reached the hole. "Ratch' ain't gonna like this on'." He grinned. "'Magine his face when I go to explain it. 'Yo're never guess, Ratchet ol' pal, but a 'bot that looked like 'Bee but not 'im punched me in the visage!' Yeah, I really don' think he'll buy it."

Arcee grinned as well. "Yeah, I think I'd find it hard to believe if I hadn't seen it myself."

"Aw, du-udes, it was wicked. I got that in _slow motion_!"

"Eeeiiii!" Arcee jumped, colliding into Jazz, this time wrapped around him. "What, who, where?" She looked around, noticing a white mech standing just a few yards away. She pointed accusingly at him. "Where did you-? How did you-? Why-?" She took a deep intake, and looked at Jazz expectantly. "You interrogate him."

Jazz looked at Arcee, at Soundwave, and back again. "I, ah, I'll interro- Him?" He paused, thinking. "About what?"

"Where he... you know, disappeared off to!"

Jazz stared at her a moment longer, then said, "Can ya, ah, disentangle yo'rself from me before I, y'know, interrogate 'im? It's a li'l, ah, _unprofessional_."

"Oh! Right!" She stepped away from him lightly, then looked back at Soundwave, who was bobbing his head to an unheard beat. _He disturbs me_, she thought, _but at the same time he_... facinates _me, too_. She walked back to the boulder, where to her dismay, Ravage was sitting, staring at her with his bulging yellow optics.

"I'm on a boulder!" he meowed happily. He gestured to the Key with his paw. "I'm on a boulder with an invaluable artifact! Whee!" He tilted his head, that eerie grin still in place. "I'm having fun!"

"I-I bet you are!" Arcee said, laughing slightly. She reached forward, grasping the Key. Ravage did nothing, so she assumed that meant he was going to let her have it. She turned away, back to Jazz, who looked as though he wasn't sure whether he wanted to whack himself or Soundwave over the the head, and Soundwave himself looked amazingly stoic and pleasant all at the same time.

All of this was still baffling her, even as she felt Ravage brush against her leg and make an odd sounding purr.

She needed answers, she assured herself, reaching down and absent-mindedly stroking Ravage's head. She needed answers to make sure she wasn't going insane, or some horrible omnipresent force wasn't playing a horrible trick on her.

Well, maybe she should just worry about her sanity first.

Determined, she stalked back beside Jazz, tuning into their conversation.

"-and the way you kept goin' at him, when you couldn't see? Dude, that was hardcore."

"Well, I mean, anyone who has th' trainin-"

"But, dude!"

"What?"

"Dude! Just... Du-u-ude..." He shook his head. "There's no earthly way to describe it, dude. It was like you were, y'know, _feelin'_ him."

"What did I walk into?" Arcee asked, her visage contorting. "Please tell me you were talking about that... fiasco earlier."

They both stared at her.

"Yeah, dudette, of course!"

"Yeah, Arcee, what else?" Jazz shook his head, smiling. "Man, you've really got an imagination, hunh? Thinkin' we were talkin' about somethin' else..."

Now or never. "I need to sneak you guys into the Autobot base," she blurted out, watching their faces carefully. Jazz looked thoughtful, but she still couldn't read Soundwave.

"Whee! Sounds like fun!" Ravge ran forward, placing his front paws on Soundwave's legs, raising himself up. "It could be an adventure, an adventure, Charlie! Adventure~!" His mouth was wide and his tail swished back and forth. He turned to Jazz, jerking forward and skimming his paws over the ninjabot's chest as the latter dodged the flailing white clubs. "We'll be together in a mission!" He ran around in circles, intaking heavily.

He made Arcee tired just looking at him. "Okay, okay," she said, trying to grab Ravage's attention so he'd stop being a distraction. It worked. She looked up at Soundwave and Jazz, seeing she indeed had theirs as well. "We need to sneak in, and we need _to be quiet_." She gave a pointed look at Ravage, who didn't understand and kept panting excitedly. "We need to also find a place you can stay..." She paused, thinking. They could use her quarters, couldn't they...?

They would have to.


	5. Chapter 5

The door slid open and three figures slid in hastily, one forcing the door to close faster behind them.

Arcee slid to the floor, her arms and legs shaking. She looked at Jazz, who was leaning over the edge of her berth, gaining his bearings, and Soundwave, who was gazing admirably at a blank wall as if it held a human's artistic masterpiece.

All of this was very surreal, but she had almost grown used to seeing these two and their different reactions. Of course, 'almost' was the keyword.

She stood shakily, not sure what to do now that she had gotten them there. She looked back at the door. "That was close." Those words hung there, and she wasn't really sure who had said them.

"Yeah, it was."

"I mean, _very_ close."

"Dude, bright side: we're alive, and vaguely undetected."

"It's the 'vaguely' that I'm worried about," Jazz said, looking at Arcee's back with uncertainty.

"Aw, awright, dude, I'mma check it out-"

"NO!" Jazz and Arcee lept in front of him with such unified gusto that they collided and collapsed on the floor in a tangled heap.

"Ow..."

"Jazz..."

"Yeah?"

"Your hand"-Arcee took an intake-"is on my leg."

"_Yo'r_ hand is on_ my_ leg!"

"No it's not!"

"Ssshhhhh, dude, dudette." Soundwave had a finger to his nonexistent lips. "You're very loud." As he looked down at them, he tilted his head to the side, as though amused by something. "You two got a thing goin' on? You just can't seem to keep your servos off each other, y'know?"

"What? I'll-I'll-! Jazz, geroff, so I can kick his can!"

"Sorry, Arcee, I'm still tryin' to figur' out which of our cans is mine."

Soundwave bent over, grasping two pink arms and lifted. Arcee and Jazz pulled apart with strangled cries of confusion; Arcee found herself with all her body parts, and all of Jazz's with him. It was a few moments of enjoying personal space again before Jazz broke the silence once again.

"That was close, though, Arcee. Why did we go that way to begin with?"

Arcee made a show of looking at the wiring in her arm. To be honest she couldn't remember why they had gone that way. It had _seemed_ a good idea at the time...

* * *

_"So, what entrance did you say this was?"_

_"Well, if this was a human building, it would be the equivalent of the way pests get in."_

_Jazz's face was set. "So no one will expect anyone to use this way?"_

_"Well..." Arcee paused, thinking about what she should say. "That's hard to tell, since the last two bots to use this entrance blew up our medbay."_

_"They... they... Wow."_

_"Wowie-zowiez!" Ravage piped up. "They blew up chur bayz? Sad face! Not very good guests!"_

_"Yeah, well, _they_ were sort of pests , too, so, it all fits." Arcee added hastily, "Not that I'm saying you guys are pests or anything!"_

_"Aw, naw, dudette, we know what you mean. We're pickin' up your vibrations loud and clear."_

_"Uhm, that's... good?" Arcee bent down, staring into the hole she had found. She knew it was the right hole she was thinking of, because it was positioned convieniently nearby the Ark._

_It was also the appropriate size for two _very_ annoying cassettes. It _had_ to be the hole. There was no other explaination._

_"Okay, so, who wants to go first?"_

_"Meeeee!" Ravage lept forward, but Soundwave was faster and grabbed the feline around his middle. Ravage doggy paddled the air before he realized he wasn't hitting the ground any time soon. He looked up at his master and asked, in the voice of a small child, "Whadchu do that for, Wavers?"_

_Soundwave tapped the feline on the nose, making Ravage bob his head. "Sorry li'l dude, but three'll be less suspicious than four. Feelin' it?"_

_"Aw..." Ravage pouted, before shrinking and disappearing, supposedly into Soundwave's chest._

_"Okay, then, who first for real?" Arcee asked, placing her hands together. Jazz looked at her, eyeing her, then Soundwave, before glancing at himself._

_"It's gotta be you or me," Jazz informed her. "Mr. Opposite over here's a little bulky, so on' of us is gonna hafta make sure he can get through before we know we can use it for sure."_

_Arcee nodded slowly. Her or Jazz? It was tough, since they both seemed fit for the job..._

_"It's yo'r base."_

Well, duh, why didn't I think of that! _Arcee placed a servo to her visage in resignation. Some days were better than others, but this one just didn't seem to be getting any better to be one of those days. "Okay, then wish me luck!" she said, before croutching in front of the hole on her hands and knees._

_"Good luck, Arcee. Ya get stuck you back up, okay?"_

_"Careful, dudette. And yeah, what the dude over here said. We can find a different way"_

_There was a muffled high cry that sounded suspiciously like Ravage, and then she crawled into the darkness and the outside world was forgotten to her._

_It was pressing against her on all sides. Her olfactory sensors were picking up the scent of both dry and wet earth. Her servos sunk into this earth and she was grimly aware that this tunnel was probably more sturdy when it was first dug out; she could imagine the earth falling in, crushing her and making her one with the planet... and no one would find her..._

Stop scaring yourself, Arcee!_ she chided herself. This was easier said than done, though. What happened if the tunnel did collapse on someone, even if it wasn't her? She knew that if she managed to get someone to help she'd have to tell them. Jazz, she might get away with, but Soundwave? She'd probably have to say Jazz anyways, but..._

_The earth became hard under her and she felt her worring stop. They just needed to get past that stretch, then, and then a sturdier path awaited them._

_The path, of course, varied in it's circumfrence. Sometimes it was wide and othertimes it was so close on her sides she wondered if the others' shoulders could pull through._

_Ahead, light reflected off the walls. Arcee slowed down, despite herself, listening carefully. To get caught now would not only be awkward, but she didn't want to reveal to anyone that she knew where this tunnel was; everyone was still looking for it, and it was driving Prowl and Red Alert absolutely bonkers._

_She was also painfully aware she didn't know where in the Ark this tunnel led. Oh, the next time she spotted those cassettes..._

_Shuffling. Arcee stopped entirely, hoping no one would detect her. The shuffling moved away, came back, and then moved away again. Eventually it stopped and Arcee crept forward even more slowly than before._

_She turned around a corner and metal met her fingers. Confused, she looked down and in the dim light saw the burnt-orange that was a rather prominent trait of the Ark's build. She crawled forward, finding it even harder to keep quiet and turned another corner._

_The sound of wind curled around her gently, and she realized she was croutching in none other than the air vents. _That tunnel could be older than we think_, she realized, crawling up to a grate. She peered through, lining up an optic with a gap. A dim light was on, and she saw shelves and boxes everywhere, particularly in front of the grate, which Arcee noted was kind of defeating the purpose of the vent in the first place._

_She wrapped her fingers in the grate, which immediately fell from the wall. Startled, Arcee noisily ducked back in the vent as the grate clattered against the floor and several nearby boxes. She slowed her cycling and stayed there for a few minutes, waiting for someone to show up, anyone, to find the grate on the floor, look inside, find her, ask what the Pit she thought she was doing..._

_But no one came. She crept forward, stepping out of the vent's opening and stand in a storage room. Relishing the feeling of stretching, she didn''t notice anything at all strange with the lights being dim._

_Light were only on when someone needed them, she remembered sharply, and she had heard shuffling earlier. That meant someone was doing something _in this particular storage room_._

_She dove for the vent, flailed at the grate before her fingers caught something and she pulled it close to the wall. It stuck somehow and she crawled, backwards, back to Jazz and Soundwave..._

* * *

_"If I have to crawl through another dark, creepy tunnel in the dark, I'm going to go haywire." Arcee picked various rather large bugs that had managed to lodge themselves into her armor. She wasn't vain, but when she crunched with every movement, it became disconcerting._

_"But at least we know there's an end," Jazz said, staring contemplatingly into the depths of the hole._

_"Yeah, but dudette, you didn't say how big it was..."_

_"It's a bit of a tight squeeze," Arcee admited, placing a brown bug on the rock beside her. It skittered away and out of sight before she had even finished her sentence. "A lot of places are small because, uhm, smaller bots dug it out. But I kind of widened it a little myself." She shook her arm which spat out dirt and bugs alike. "Unintentional, but I'm sure I've left scores in the roof and sides."_

_"Yeah, I think you'll make it through, Sounder," Jazz nodded, almost to himself more than anything. "Okay, Arcee," he turned to her, his face set so that it looked as if he was going to regret at what was coming next, or if it amused him. "Are you better at pushing, or pulling?"_

* * *

_"Jazz, careful now, we're really close, sooo... We can't make too much noise."_

_Arcee waited as Soundwave relayed this to Jazz, before she pulled at Soundwave's arm again. They couldn't go through the storage room from earlier, but they couldn't make too many sharp turns either; the first one had been hard enough, thank you, Primus._

_She let go of his arm, crawling up to another grate and staring through it into the room._

_It was dark, which was a good sign, but she had to flick on night vision. It looked like the storage room Prime had held meetings with Prowl and Jazz. No one had gone in since the three's disappearence; out of respect, Arcee assumed, but it didn't seem all that special. There were placemats on the floor where the three of them must have sat. There were empty mini cubes and datapads lying about across the room._

_Those must've been some meetings._

_Arcee let out something of a sigh. This was the perfect place to come out of; no one would walk in on them, and Arcee could say she couldn't find something the other storage rooms, so she was looking in this one. (She knew for a fact that they didn't have any Zydrate in the other rooms.)_

_She reached for the grate, feeling her fingers slip into dents already made by others. Someone had rather vigorously pulled, or pushed, this grate away at some point. _Ominous_, she thought, but pushed at it anyways. She need to get through, and this was the best room to do it in._

_She carefully stood in the room, placing the grate against the wall, determined to make as little noise as possible. She stuck her upperbody back into the vent and tudged at Soundwave's arms._

_Fifteen minutes later, a rather dirty, now brown Soundwave stood before her, and a rather scarred-looking Jazz stood behind him._

_They spread out, Arcee slapping Soundwave's hand when he bent down to look at an abandoned datapad. True, he didn't seem like a threat, but Arcee still couldn't find herself to trust him completely._

_"What's this?" Jazz asked, holding up a little glass vial. It glowed eeriely blue in the dark, the light playing across his visage._

_"Zydrate - that's my scapegoat. If anyone asks why I'm here, I'm looking for it."_

_"Gotcha." He picked up a red glowing vial. "Dare I ask?"_

_"Etardyz," Arcee said, looking pained. "We stole it from the Decepticons before they could test it on humans. It, erm, well, we don't know what it does, but we're not really sure we want to know."_

_"Why do ya keep it then?"_

_"It makes really good ammo."_

_Jazz looked about to say something, but Soundwave's voice suddenly carried over to them._

_"_Zydrate comes in a little vial_," his voice had become grainy, as though recorded from a bad medium. "_A little glass vial? / A little glass vial!_"_

_Arcee shook her head as Soundwave's recording when on about how the little glass vial went into a gun, appearently like a battery. Jazz looked as though he wanted to laugh, but afraid of creating too much noise._

_Arcee stepped around a few shelves, noticing various chemicals she recognized, but mostly, she wasn't sure what some even classified as. ("It looks like water, but water doesn't have fireworks in it...")_

_She stepped up to the door, placing a hand on it. It slid away at her touch, and she stepped into the corridor hesitantly. She looked up and down, but spotted no one. She gestured to Jazz, who gestured to Soundwave, whose recording was now talking about a 'mags' and a contract._

_They stepped behind her, and almost behind her, when she spotted a red glint at the edge of her vision. She turned, looking at the end of the corridor, where, indeed, somebot who happened to be red was coming. She didn't bother registering who it was; she turned around and pushed Jazz and Soundwave hastily into the storage room before closing the doors._

_"Hey, Arcee," Sideswipe greeted, walking up to her lazily. "What were you doing in there?"_

_"Zydrate," she recited hastily, "It comes in a little glass vial."_

_Sideswipe stared at her oddly before he broke into a grin. "What's it look like? Maybe I can help yo-"_

_"Oh, I, uh, I found it."_

_"Really? Can I see? I've never heard of it before..."_

_Arcee resisted pulling a face. She hadn't thought she might actually need to _prove_ she had been looking for something. She discreetly tapped on the door which opened a smidge, grabbed a vial and lifted it up. "See?"_

_"Wow, uhm, it's a, ah, lovely shade of red."_

_"Yeah, yeah, it is, isn't it?" she said, smiling and hoping Sideswipe didn't recognize it from the mission a few months back._

_"Have I seen it somewhere before?"_

_"Uhm, well, it's, ah, used for nullifying currents in sensitive circutry when it needs repairing."_

_Sideswipe pulled a face. "Then why does the Hatchet never use it?"_

_"Well, why do you think you call him the Hatchet?" she asked testily, as if he should've known this himself. She waved the vial under his nose, as if for emphasis. Irritated, Sides briskly pushed the vial away._

_With a tinge of horror, she felt the vial slip out of her hand. He wasn't suppose to have done that! She was only teasing after all!_

_In slow motion, she saw the vial drop and shatter. The sensation of being thrown against where the doors met the wall came before the sound of the explosion, and above the sound of alarms blaring in her head, she heard Sideswipe hit the other side of the corridor. She stood up after she mostly regained her senses._

_Soundwave and Jazz had pushed through the doors, which was not an easy task, as they had bent in from the explosion. She stepped forward, looking for the spot where the Etardyz had hit the floor. It was probably the mini-crater in the middle of the hall. No glass, no Etardyz, no floor._

_That was probably considered a 'Big Ooppsies'._

_"Aw, okay, dudes, he's out cold, won't be hangin' ten for a bit. We should make like a couple of chamel-eo-bots and disappear."_

_Jazz looked around the corridor, clearly lost. Klaxons had begun to blare..._

_"This way!" Arcee called over the cacophony, snapping firmly back into reality. Their feet hit the floor and they were out of there before Ironhide showed up._

_The aged bot shook his head, looking at Sideswipe, who was coming to._

_"Wha' happ'n'd here?" he demanded, pointing at the devastated hallway. "It looks like ya were fightin' the Minions o' Unicron in here!"_

_Sideswipe looked around, as though he couldn't remember why he was there at all. Suddenly his optics lit up. "I can't remember what it was, but it comes in a little glass vial." His visage grew serious. "And I sure as the Pit ain't gonna let it near _my_ sensitive circutry. Yee-ouch!"_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

She eyed the others, thinking of what to do now. "So," Arcee began, slowly," Where are you two from, exactly?"

Jazz and Soundwave looked at each other. "I'll go firs', man," Jazz said, holding up a servo. Soundwave nodded. "Well, I come from a place a lot like this on', ya could say," he said, tapping a finger on the side of his helm. "Is a bit more... hi-tech, though, ya dig?"

Arcee nodded. Jazz made no more comments, so she turned to Soundwave. "And what's your story, Mister Opposite?"

Soundwave leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. "Well, dudette, it's a long, sad, gruesome story," he said. "And if I told the truth of it, you might think I'm a little crazy."

Arcee didn't mention she already thought that. Instead, she put on a serious frown and crossed her arms. "It's because I'm a femme, isn't it?"

"Aw, no no no! It's not - I mean - yeesh." Soundwave put a hand to his forehead. "You know how to make a bot feel uncomfortable, dudette."

Jazz muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'tell me about it', but straightened up when Arcee gave him a what-are-you-talking-about look. She looked back at Soundwave. "Tell us," she said. "It's not like you're going anywhere anytime soon."

There was a moment of silence, in which it must've become very obvious to Soundwave that he was smack in the middle of an Autobot base, and was, in fact, going no where soon. "Dude," was all he said.

He started walking around the room. "You won't believe it," he said quietly, as if mostly to himself. He stopped, and turned in their direction. "I'm gonna tell you two something, and it's gonna be a lot like other things from where I come from. You won't believe me."

"Try me," Arcee said. Jazz said nothing, but he did tilt his head a bit, as if to listen better.

"Y'know Prime? Well, of course you do. I mean, Autobots, right? Well, he's kind of..." Soundwave tapped his fingers tips together. "Insane? Yeah, dudes, cuckoo. Yoinks. Off his rocker. Out of it. Walks to the beat of his own drumm-"

"Okay, okay!" Arcee said, waving her arms in front of him. "We get it, he's nuts!"

In the silence that followed, there was a sound, distinct in its own way, something that could only really be heard when paying attention. It was vague, like a small _pop! _and Arcee has learned exactly what that sound was, and what that sound meant.

"Okay, well then, inside the Autobot base, now... for..." the intruder trailed off, noticing that the target had company.

Jazz opened and closed his mouth, before letting out a cycle of a sigh and a laugh. "I can't believe this," he said. "Him" - he pointed at Soundwave - "I can believe. But him?" He pointed at the intruder. "This is just getting silly now."

"This wasn't silly before?" Arcee asked, lifting an optic ridge. She looked at the intruder, who seemed at a loss, staring at Soundwave. "Skywarp! Get out!" And she pulled out her blaster.

"Meep!" was the Seeker's response, followed by a small _pop!_

"Well, tha' was... diff'rent," Jazz said, staring at the now Decepticon-free space.

Soundwave laughed, an oddly melodic sound. "Who was that dude?" he asked.

"Uh, Skywarp," Arcee said, nudging the ground. "He likes to come into my quarters. And don't ask why!"

"Why would he do tha-?" Jazz began, grinning.

"What did I just say? _Honestly_, mechs!" Arcee threw up her hands.

Jazz put up his own hands, defensive. "Jus' curious," he said. "No need ta get touchy." Jazz kept grinning.

"You're getting the wrong idea about this, aren't you?"

"Oooh, yeeeeah."

Arcee sighed, looking over at Soundwave. He hadn't made much of the way of talk. "Is there a Skywarp where you come from?" she asked

Something dark flicked across Soundwave's visor. "Don't ask," was all he said.

* * *

"Teeeeeceeeeeee!" Skywarp cried, flinging himself into the quarters. Thundercracker didn't jump. Millennia of this behaviour had hardened him to it. He turned his head to look at the black Seeker, whose knee joints were shaking and clacking.

"What the Pit?" he said. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"M-maybe I have!" Skywarp said, his voice shrill. "He was w-white a-after all!"

This caught Thundercracker's attention. "Who was white?"

"S-Soundwave!"

"What?" Thundercracker stood up. "A white Soundwave? Where?"

"Th-the Autobot base!"

This brought on a moment of silence. "Skywarp... what were you doing in the Autobot base? Weren't you supposed to, I don't know, stop going there without provocation?"

"I-I..." Skywarp looked blank, which was rather normal. "I can't remember."

"Liar."

"It's true!"

"There's no way you don't remember." Thundercracker shook his head. "You remember more than you put on."

Skywarp didn't say anything for a moment. Anyone who didn't know him better might say he was collecting his thoughts. After a moment, he finally said, "What am I putting on?"

"... You're impossible." He put his hands to his visage. "I can't believe we're brothers. At all." He picked up some data pads and started sorting through them.

"Wh-what are you doing, Teecee?"

"What I was doing before you barged in," he huffed.

"Bu-but! The white Soundwave...!"

"What about it?" Thundercracker stared at Skywarp, daring him to question. "It isn't our business."

"But, what if the Autobots are planning something?" Skywarp stepped closer to him.

"Then it can be Screamer's problem."

"Bu-but! Bu-but!"

"You're acting like a sparkling."

Skywarp stomped his foot. "You don't think I saw a white Soundwave, do you?"

"You want me to be honest?" Thundercracker asked. Skywarp nodded. "I don't think you did at all."

Skywarp gasped. "Teecee! But, but..." He didn't seem to having anything to say to that. His thought proccess seemed to find something to go on, because he finally said, "But what if I _did_ see him? And what if this conversation comes back and bites you in the aft?"

Thundercracker sucked in air. "You're guilt tripping me," he said. Skywarp grinned. "I hate it when you do that."

"But it works," Skywarp said. He crossed his arms and looked smug.

Thundercracker sighed. "Yes," he said, "Yes it does."

"O-kay!" Skywarp grabbed a hold of Thundercracker's arm. "Get ready, this could get tingly."

"That's the last thing I need."

There was scuffling down the hall. Thundercracker looked at the open door. "Why didn't you close that?" he asked.

"What, we're supposed to close those?"

"_Skywarp!_"

There was a voice, eerily close. "Thundercracker, I need your, ah, _opinion_ on something Megatron is doing, or rather, _not_, seeing as he's taken this moment to disappear..." Something vaguely sounding like "This would never happen if _I_ were in control..."

"_Slag!_" Skywarp hissed.

"Just go already! Teleport!"

"Oh, right!"

_Pop!_

Starscream stood in the doorway, watching the spot Skywarp and Thundercracker had once occupied. He repressed a sigh. "I _hate_ it when they do this!"

* * *

"What we need to do," Arcee said, "Is alert security about this not-Bumblebee." Soundwave and Jazz nodded. She noticed the main comm frequency was closed, probably since no one was really around the base at the moment, so she tried opening a private link with Red Alert. Her efforts were met with static. "Comm's down," she said. "I'll have to go down and tell him in person."

Soundwave looked down at his feet. "Aw, dudes," he said. "I'm getting strange vibes from down under."

Arcee and Jazz stared at him.

"What?" Arcee asked.

"You want a moment with yaself, man?" Jazz asked, smile in place.

"No no, dudes, I mean, there's something funky going on in the bowls of the ship."

"_This_ ship?"

"Yeah, dude. What did you _think_ I was talking about?"

"Oh, nothing!" Jazz said, shrugging. "We should check this stuff out, though. Spilt up, maybe."

"Soundwave's not exactly inconspicuous," Arcee said, lifting a finger for emphasis.

"No sweat, dudette."

"And neither is Ravage."

Soundwave put a hand up. "I got just the li'l dude for the job." He pulled at his front and out jumped another cassette. Arcee jumped back in response.

"Hey, what's up?" the cassette said, grinning at them. "Frenzy's the name! Speed, however, is not my game. Well, sometimes." He put a finger to his lip. "If I feel like it, I mean."

Arcee sifted air through her vents. "This'll take some getting used to," she said.

Soundwave bent down, placing a servo on Frenzy's shoulder. He looked up at Arcee. "What's below?" he asked.

"The brig."

"Right-o, dudes and dudette. Arcee, you're taking the security hub?"

"Well, yes."

"And someone needs to check out the signals in the brig." Soundwave looked between Frenzy and Jazz. "You two up for it?"

Frenzy put his fists up. "Ready as ever!"

Jazz grinned. "Yeah," he said, "But I'll need a new visor. Can't see much right now." He tapped the edge of the glass.

"Ah, right, sorry about that, dude." Soundwave stood, pulling something from behind him, and handed Jazz an orange-yellow piece of glass. "Will this do?"

Jazz slid the old visor out, and tried placing the new visor in. It bulged slightly. "I think it's a li'l big, but unless it pops out an' whacks someone, we're cool."

"Righteous."

* * *

Arcee took a deep cycle, standing in front of the security hub door. Jazz and Frenzy were on their way to the brig, and so far nothing bad was radiating through the air in the _Ark_.

She placed a hand on the security pad, inputting the code with practiced ease. With any luck, telling Red Alert should be easy; he'll talk to Blaster, they'll reinstate the community comm, relay the message, and the base will know.

The reason communication was based in such an unusual way was because recent signals from an unknown third party were interfering with their own wavelengths. Shortly before Optimus had disappeared, along with Prowl and Jazz, he had ordered Bumblebee to check out some things going on up in the cave systems above. She suspected Prime had been concerned about various energy signals from those caves messing with the_ Ark_. And now it seemed his suspicions were true.

In the few nanoklicks it took for Teletraan to acknowledge the code and open the door, Arcee remember the not-Bumblebee saying that when they hurt him, the not-Bumblebee, they also hurt _him_, implying the real Bumblebee was, in some way, still alive. At least, that's what she hoped it meant.

The doors slide open with a hiss of air, and Arcee stepped in.

The security hub, for the most part, was a smallish square room with the typical orange that was prevalent throughout the _Ark_. Dominating most of the room were computer screens. Several chairs were twisted to the side, as if the bots who had been sitting in them had decided to take a break.

Red Alert was sitting in one of the chairs on the farther end of the room, and he looked up at the sound of the doors opening. He stood, and walked over to her. "Hey there, Arcee," he said, neutral expression on his face. "Good to see you. There was something I wanted to ask you about an earlier security anomaly..." He trailed off, noticing Arcee's attention was not, in fact, on him. He looked over his shoulder, saw nothing he thought unusual, and looked back at Arcee, lifting an optic ridge. "Arcee, you look like you've just been put up against Shockwave. It's just myself and Bumblebee in here, so don't worry."

Arcee just opened and closed her mouth, suddenly unsure of how to tell Red Alert they were both in danger. The yellow bot looked up from the screens at the sound of 'his' name, and seemed to stare back at Arcee with the same slack-jawed fear. He, however, seemed to recover quickly and stood up.

Reacting quickly, Arcee burst out, "That's not 'Bee!" The not-Bumblebee froze and Red Alert looked horrifically amused.

"Well, Arcee, that's quite the accusation. Cliffjumper would be proud, I'm sure, if we could find him."

"He doesn't act like 'Bee! He stutters when he tries to talk like him!" Arcee cried frantically, pointing at the imposter.

Red Alert looked at the yellow minibot, who looked shocked and almost hurt. Clearly he must have brushed up on some acting skills in the past few Earth hours; it was the only explanation Arcee could find. Red Alert sighed, shaking his head. "He was just in to see Ratchet for a tune-up," he said. "I'm sure if he weren't the _real _Bumblebee, Ratchet would know about it."

"Ask him what Prime said about the Key!"

And Red Alert looked suddenly serious. Before Prime's disappearance, he had told Red Alert to keep a good eye on Bumblebee and Arcee, as they seemed least affected by the Key's overpowering energies, Bumblebee more than Arcee. Now that the Key was brought back into his range of mind, Red Alert seemed to think this as less of a joke.

If only Arcee had thought of it earlier.

Red Alert turned around, his visage twisted in suspicion, the question vocalizing itself. "Well, then _Bumblebee_, what _did_ Opti-" He stopped, noticing 'Bumblebee' had leveled a blaster at him, at his chest, his own visage bearing a smirk.

"I knew leaving her alive would come back to haunt me," he said. And he pulled the trigger.

Arcee saw her comrade fall, slowly, blurring at the edges, as if he were falling, not only never to rise again, but away, far away, to another dimension, a place no one else could ever reach, until all were one. She ordered her own hands to find her own blaster and shoot back at this fake Autobot in retaliation, but the shock caused her body to rebel.

She wanted to run to him, hold him, and yell for Ratchet, but she didn't; she _couldn't_. The danger had not yet passed. The not-Bumblebee walked up to Red Alert's fallen form, both of their frames almost bristling with movement, even though little was present.

"Once more," the not-Bumblebee said, "with _feeling_." And he shot Red Alert in the head.

When Arcee had come back to her senses, and though she had never left her place, her position, she felt as though she too had been there on the floor, shot and betrayed and so very much alone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Thinkin' this is th' way," Jazz said, pointing down one of the _Ark_'s many halls.

Frenzy peered down another hall. "You sure?" the cassette asked. "Could be this one."

The two looked at each other and broke into uneasy grins. "We're lost, ain't we?" Frenzy asked.

"We're no' lost!" Jazz said. He threw a hand into the air. "We're just..."

"Lost?"

Jazz let out a sigh. "Yeah, fine, we're _lost._"

Frenzy just shook his head, still grinning, and headed down one of the many corridors. He waved his tiny hands in the air. "Frickin' lost!" he said, laughing. "Why, the only way this could get worse is if-" He whammed into the wall. "Cripes!" he exclaimed. "Can't even walk... straight down... a... hall..." He looked up, and two burning blue eyes stared back at him. He opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds, before hissing out, "Slag just got worse."

Jazz rounded the corner, his sights met with a disheveled Frenzy staring up at a pissed, dandelion-yellow bot. "Aw, slaggit," he said under his breath. He raised his voice, saying, "Hey, pick on someon' yo'r own size!"

The yellow bot raised his optics to the sound of Jazz's voice. Confusion flashed across the bot's face, and he looked back to a red bot who was strolling forward, who in turned looked at the yellow bot. Jazz could've sworn he saw understanding of something flash between them. Both were armed. Both looked extremely dangerous. And both seemed to look at Frenzy with deep contempt, and yet also with confusion.

The yellow one waved a blaster in front of the cassette and the red one came closer, looking oddly amused. Frenzy let out an almost guttural sound, stepping back and holding his fists in a defensive position. "Don' provoke 'em," Jazz said, holding out a hand instinctively.

The red one waved his blaster in Jazz's direction. "Hey," he said, looking at the yellow one. "You didn't tell me he could talk."

"Didn't think it necessary," the yellow one hissed. "Now what do we do with them?"

The red one shrugged. "The brig?" he suggested.

Frenzy looked back at Jazz. _'Convenient_,_'_ he mouthed. Jazz nodded slightly. The red one stepped towards Jazz, waving his blaster carelessly. Jazz stepped back slightly, and the red bot lifted an eye ridge at the motion.

"Scared?" he asked, smiling.

"Smart," Jazz retorted, and the red one didn't say anything to that. Instead, he lunged at him. Someone let out a cry, and the two went down in a flurry of red and white and blue.

Frenzy stepped back, once more into the yellow bot, who brushed him into the wall. The cassette let out a squeak and hit the floor, unable to find his feet. "This is going fan_tastic_," he said, picking himself up. "Shouldn't ya be takin' us to the brig, not bashing the slag outta us?"

Yellow leered down at Frenzy. "Shut up, half-pint," he growled.

"Hey, who you callin' a half-pint?" Frenzy cried, putting his hands on his hips.

"You, half-pint!"

"I ain't no half-pint!" And Frenzy leapt up at Yellow's face. The larger bot grabbed at his own face, wrenching the cassette off.

"Stupid slagging... My visage needs to be pristine!"

Frenzy huffed, flailing in Yellow's grip. "Too late for that, scuzz breath!" he said. "Seriously, take a mint or somethin'."

And Yellow flung him against the wall. The cassette slid down, but didn't get up, merely_ whoosh_ing out a cycle.

Jazz kicked the red bot away, who jumped up, laughing. Jazz himself didn't understand what was so funny, but scrambled over to Frenzy, forsaking the thought. "Hey," he said quietly, "You alrigh'?"

Frenzy let out another puff of air. Jazz shook his head, and the cassette lifted a hand. "I... still... function...!" he said, and laughed. He gently smacked the side of his head, whispering, "Oh, bad Frenzy, bad. That was just _ba-a-ad_."

Jazz saw the wall behind Frenzy darken. He heard the red bot say something oddly like "Wanna bet?" and then everything was dark.

* * *

It was dark. And then Jazz onlined his optics. It didn't do much, since it was still _dark_. "Why are brigs always dark?" he asked to nobody in particular. "Is there no 'lectricity down 'ere?"

"Naw," Frenzy's voice said. "It just cuz dark things're morbid, and what else's a brig s'pposed to be?" Frenzy's face suddenly floated over Jazz's. "He hit ya hard. You okay?"

Jazz sat up, ducking so as not to smack into Frenzy. He rubbed the back of his head. "Man, fo' Autobots, they sure hit hard."

Frenzy laughed at that. "Least they didn't try to kill us!" he pointed out.

A light flickered at the end of the room, past the cell, in the freedom. Two shapes moved in the light, becoming larger, sharper, clearer, and there were voices carrying across the brig.

The first voice sounded like Red. "So, whaddaya think the deal is?" he asked, voice echoing. "Decepticon ploy?"

The second sounded like Yellow. "I wouldn't put it past them, but I don't really care about it," he said. "I just want to get back at the little cretin for clinging onto my visage. Do you see scratches? I feel like there's scratches."

The red one laughed. "Mmm, hard to tell in this light."

"Sideswipe! Just tell me!"

"Really, Sunny, I can't tell! It's too dark in here... where's the pad for the lights?" There was shuffling, and then, "It's on your side, Sunny."

"Stop calling me 'Sunny'! It's degrading!"

The red one took a deep cycle. "Sunny-sunny-sunny-sunny-sunny-sunny-sunny-SUN-NY!" There was silence for a moment and then, "Wow, if you _do_ say a word over and over, it really _does_ start to sound like nothing!" Another moment, followed by, "Slag. Guess I'll just call you 'Streaker. Which kinda sounds hilarious too, but for all the wrong reasons."

The lights flicked on, then off, then on again. Lack of use lets this happen occasionally, but Jazz found if he looked at everything carefully, it didn't matter whether there was light or not.

They stood at the end of the flight of stairs, looking into the cell with a mixture of contempt and cool glee. Yellow - Sunny-Streaker? - was contempt and Red - Sideswipe? - was glee.

"We've got a few questions to ask of you," Red said, holding his hands in full view; unarmed. Yellow huffed and crossed his arms, but it was clear he didn't have a blaster in hand either.

"Questions like what?" Frenzy asked, getting close to the bars, hands on hips.

"Oh, y'know, who are you, where do you come from, what are you doing here, what faction are you, what's your shoe size, would you like fries with that, those sorts of things," Red said, waving a hand in a circle. "Do you prefer femmes in pink, green, or blue? Y'know, we'd like to get, ah, _personal_."

"Well, to answer those last few questions-" Frenzy began, but Jazz placed a hand on the top of the bot's head and he stopped. He looked up and Jazz, broke into a grin, and looked back at the their captors. "Don't wear shoes, fries are cool, - well, not that they should be! - and..." Frenzy sucked in air. "I'd say 'why not all', but I've seen what a bot looks like when that happens." He shuddered. "Psychedelic, dude."

Jazz raised an optic ridge. "Fren, I was gonna say somethin' like 'we'd rather not get personal', but you kinda threw it off there."

Frenzy gasped. "Sorry, dude! I threw off your groove!"

"S'all right, dude," Jazz said. He paused, eyeing the cassette. "Think your, ah, big dude's rubbin' off on me," he said.

"Yeah, he does that," Frenzy laughed. "Occupational hazard," he added.

"Right, well, let's get back to business," Red said, clapping his hands together. "Let's get to what side you guys are on."

"We're on your side!" Frenzy said, getting right up to the bars. He slid a look to Jazz and whispered, "Geez, never thought I'd say that to, well, y'know."

"He's righ'," Jazz said, joining the cassette in front of the bars of the cell. "We're on yo'r side of this mess." Jazz looked at Frenzy. "Red is good, righ'?" he asked, looking back at Red and Yellow. "And purple is evil, righ'?"

They glanced at each other, not liking the way this was turning, but couldn't say anything against it. "Yeah," Yellow said. "So what?"

Frenzy pointed to the lower part of his abdomen. "Red," he said, "Unless you two are colourblind, among other things."

"Why you stupid little-"

"'Streaker!" Red interrupted, and then, "Y'know, I liked Sunny better. I'll stick with my old guns."

Yellow shot a if-looks-could-kill-you-wouldn't-exist-anymore look at the side of Red's head. Red just grinned, even though he seemed very aware of the glare.

"Y'know," Frenzy said, almost quietly. "He reminds me of someone I know." He looked at Jazz and raised his eye ridges quickly. "If ya know what I mean."

"Ya mean, he's like that there, too?"

"Yeah. 'Cept more annoying." Frenzy nodded. "Yep, definitely."

Something fell with a loud _clang_, and everyone went dead still. Red looked at Yellow, and Yellow looked at Red. Something seemed to pass between them and the glow of their optics went up a few watts. They looked at Frenzy and Jazz.

'_Sit_,_'_ Red mouthed, and turned to look in the direction of the clang. Frenzy stuck his glossa out, but sucked it back in when Yellow shot a glare his way. Red looked at Yellow, they did another weird silent talk, and Yellow slid his fingers over the pad.

The brig was dark again, and there, in the distance, were two floating red orbs.

"Speak of the devil," a voice said cheerily from the corner, "And he shall appear!"

"Either this could go really well," Frenzy hissed. "Or really, really, _really_ bad."

Jazz nodded and patted the cassette's head. "My sentiments 'xactly."

"Oh, trust me, dude, this isn't just an Autobot. It's... '_Streaker_."

"_What?_" a voice, Yellow, hissed in the dark.

A red light slashed in the dark, followed by a sharp cry, and then silence. There was fumbling and the lights went on. Yellow took deep cycles, staring at the corner. "My paintjob," he growled. And the lights went back off.

There was silence, and then more clanging. Blue lights shot at the sound.

"Aw-ww, du-udes, uncalled for," someone muttered, followed by silence.

"Who was that?" Red asked.

"What, that wasn't you?"

"No! I don't... waggle my voice like that."

"Waggle?"

"Shut up! It's not like you always know the word to use either!"

The lights went back on, and Red and Yellow stood in the corner, where the red orbs had once been. Their optics flickered, as if blinking, and they looked at the pad and the mech standing next to it. "Dudes," Soundwave said. "You need to put that in a better place. I'm not sure you could find that even if you knew where it was."

"What?" Red said.

"The light switch, dude. What did you think I was talking about? This guy?" He nudged the dark body laying on the floor. "Aw, dudes, no, that's a recent addition. Made sure of that. Total wipe out, this guy, though. Not all there."

"Aw, Sounders! You came to save us!" Frenzy said.

"Aw, li'l dude! Would I ever leave you behind?"

"Well, no. No. Except that one time."

Soundwave didn't say anything to that for a few kliks. "When was that?"

"That one time, at that one place."

"Oh." He paused. "You wouldn't leave. Don't think that counts, dude."

"Bu-but! You left me there! Alone! You didn't even leave me a bro!"

Soundwave laughed. "I'll remember that next time," he said.

"_What _the _slag_?" Red said. He looked at Yellow. "What is this? What is this fraggin' pile of slag?"

"Aw, dude," Soundwave said. "That's just insulting."

"'It's an expression," Red said. "But don't push me, Blocky."

Soundwave didn't say anything just staring at Red and Yellow. Frenzy laughed. "He's '_Blocky_'? You two look in a mirror lately? By the way, Sounders, can we get out of here? I'm starting to get cabin fever here!"

"Sounders?" Red asked.

"Aw, dude, I'm Soundwave, the heroic Decepticon Communications Officer! ... Dudes!" And Soundwave struck a pose, pointing at the ceiling. He looked behind him. "Hm," he said, stroking his chin, "Doesn't work as well when it's just me."

Red gaped, and he and Yellow looked at each other. "I think he's mocking us," Red said to Yellow.

"Thinking so, Sideswipe."

"Let's tag him," Red said, grinning.

"Aw, dudes, you don't wanna do that," Frenzy said. "Don't know what you're getting into!"

"Shut up, half-pint!"

"Stop it! Stoppitstoppitstoppit! I ain't short!" Frenzy stomped his foot on the floor.

"I'd ask why we all can't jus' get along," Jazz said, "And then I remember why we 'ave factions an' why I'm in a cell." He paused, and then, "And then I realize I don' really know the reason for th' cell part."

"You're in our base! Uninvited!"

"I was, in fact, invited. And so was he. And 'im, too," Jazz said, pointing at Frenzy and Soundwave in turn.

"And who would be stupid enough to do that?" Yellow scoffed.

"We're not naming names," Frenzy said. "But it's all for good reason."

"And that would be?" Yellow asked, stepping up to the cell bars.

"Because we're all in terrible danger," Soundwave said. He took out a blaster, and shot Red. He jerked painfully and fell to the floor, spasming and then laying still. Yellow whipped around, but Soundwave shot him before he could open his mouth, and he too jerked painfully and fell to the floor, spasming and then laying still. Soundwave put the gun back in subspace. "I love stun guns," he said.

"Actually, that's kinda taser-like," Frenzy said. "But, hey, same difference."

Soundwave slowly strolled over and tapped at the pad on the side of the cell. "Aw, dudes, this code is child's play," he said. "I make more complex codes in my recharge."

"Tha's certainly somethin', Sounders, but we need to get out of here," Jazz said.

"Hold up, dudes, we need to get 'Streaker in a cell; he ain't dead yet, Jim."

"Jazz," the ninjabot said. "Though Jim has a nice ring to it," he added, tapping his chin in thought. He froze, as if remembering something, and dropped his hand back to his side.

Frenzy kicked 'Streaker's side. "He's unconscious!" the cassette said, suprised. "He's _actually_ unconscious!"

"Yeah, Huey and Dewey helped," Soundwave said.

Frenzy laughed, nudging the unconscious 'Bot. "I kinda doubt that," he said. "You're strong enough on your own, Sounders!" Soundwave just flexed, adding to the absurdity.

The three dragged the 'Bot into the cell, and Soundwave punched in a code of his own. "He'll never guess it, dudes," he assured them.

And the brig was dark again.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: **Chapter 8**, in which it becomes painfully obvious Ratchet is bipolar. Er, more so.

As a side-note, **Sunstreaker** will refer to the G1 bot, and **'Streaker** will refer to the SG bot. Usually.

* * *

He crept slowly down the stairs. He had watched them leave, just to be sure. There were still two down there, but they were of this world, and easy to trick.

It was dark, as brigs typically are. He moved his fingers over the pad to the side, which was a terribly placed pad, he noted, and dim light filled the room. The prone forms of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were laying on the ground, in full view, and were a very tempting thing, but the temptation passed. He moved straight to the cell, which was currently the only one occupied.

He looked to the pad and tapped at it. He tried all the basic codes, and then the complex codes, before he realized the code wasn't Autobot at all. Air hissed violently out of his vents, and he aimed his blaster just below the pad. The blast penetrated, and the bars sizzled out of existence. "When all else fails, shoot it," he said quietly.

He kneeled next to the body and placed a hand on it. It surged at his touch and the tip of a blaster was pressed against his chin. "Where are they?" 'Streaker asked, though his voice held no malice. "For that matter, on a different note, of course, who are you again?"

He placed a hand to his face, and nudged the blaster out of the way. "Glitch head," he said. "You really don't know?"

Sunstreaker tilted his head from side to side. He rolled his shoulders; a shrug. "Beats me," he said. And he placed the tip of his blaster back under his chin.

"It's me, you slaggin' glitch head, it's Goldbug!" he said, bopping 'Streaker in the face. "_Honestly_, no wonder we haven't won this damned war already! And get that blaster out of my face! I'm getting tired of this already."

'Streaker stood, though shakily, and Goldbug followed suit. 'Streaker looked at him, and scrunched up his face. "I remember Goldbug being taller. Are you sure you're him?"

"Positive," he said. "And don't mention my height again! I'm getting fraggin' sensitive about it."

'Streaker opened his mouth, and the room was awash with light. They lifted their arms over their optics. "The slag?" one of them said, and then the light was gone.

Goldbug lowered his arm, staring into the main brig room. Two bots were standing there, looking blank. One was yellow, a black stripe racing down the front of his chassis, and the other was black, accented with dark gold, his optics covered by a visor (though said visor was a little... strange-looking).

"Hey, hey," the yellow one said. "It doesn't look like we're in Detroit anymore."

"No, Bumblebee, we aren't," the black one said. "It appears to be a brig, and we're probably surrounded by hostiles."

"_Probably? _Why don't you find out for sure with your magical ninja powers!"

"It doesn't _work_ like that."

"It should!"

"Bumblebee, will you shut your mouth for five astro-seconds so I can think!" the black and gold mech hissed quietly.

The yellow one with the black stripes pulled himself up, and crossed his arms. "Not when I have no idea where we are! Geeze, Prowl, you can be a real jerk when you want to be."

"Jerk? Well, at least I'm not obsessed with those electronic games and other things of the like," the black and gold mech -Prowl?- retorted, waving a hand in the air.

"Yeah, well, at least I know how to have fun! You run around like you've got a pipe up your- Prowl! Look at me when I'm being immature and yelling!"

But this Prowl was looking at the prone forms of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, and then up at Goldbug and 'Streaker. "Bumblebee," he said calmly. "I believe we've run into a bit of trouble."

"Trouble?" Goldbug said, "This isn't trouble. This-" he lifted his blaster at them "-_this_ is trouble!"

"Oh," Bumblebee said weakly to the gun. "Hi there, Trouble."

'Streaker looked at Goldbug. "Wait, aren't you supposed to _not_ be shooting people?"

"I've mostly blown my cover," he told him. "And I need to burn off some pent-up steam, rage, aggression."

"Oh, okay!" Sunstreaker lifted his blaster as well. "Hi, there, I'm Sunstreaker and I'll be helping to kill you today!" he sang happily.

"Run!" Prowl hissed to Bumblebee. The yellow bot started running backwards, Stingers flipping out. Goldbug fired shots. Bumblebee yelped, and his return fire missed by what seemed like kliks.

The air whistled, the screech of something coming through it at high velocity. Goldbug hissed an oath, watching his blaster and panels of his fingers flying into the corner. He looked at Prowl and the latter smiled, light playing across his visor. "What the frag was that?" Goldbug asked, shocked.

"If you don't know, I'm not telling," was the response, and he ducked out of the brig, Bumblebee attempting to follow.

"Wait, wait!" Sunstreaker cried. He shot vaguely in the direction of the two retreating forms. There was a light yelp of pain, but nothing more.

"No wonder we haven't won this damned war," Goldbug repeated. He leapt up and whacked 'Streaker on the side of the head. The bot looked down at him, rubbing the side of his head.

"What was that for?"

"You disgust me." Goldbug shook his head, bending down and picking up Sideswipe's blaster.

"Where's yours?"

"I don't know. I don't know where it _or_ half my fingers went." He glared at the oblivious bot. "I. Am. _Not! Happy!_"

Sunstreaker looked at the exposed joints on Goldbug's fingers. "Oh!" he said. "They still work?"

"Thankfully," Goldbug said. _Hopefully_ was what he was really thinking, but he wouldn't admit that to anyone. He gestured to the door of the brig. "Let's get out of here before Huey and Dewey wake up."

"Okay!" 'Streaker put a finger to his face. "Where have I heard that before?" he asked, but Goldbug had already left. "Wait! I don't know what else to do, you have to give me mission objectives! This isn't how this wooooorks!"

But no one was there to listen to his whining. Sunstreaker stomped his foot and walked out, leaving the lights in the brig on.

* * *

"Ahhh, my achin' processor," Sideswipe moaned, struggling to rub the back of his head. "Anybody get the number of the Transport that hit me?"

"I could say the same," Sunstreaker replied. He lifted himself up, looking around the brig. "Lights are on," he said.

"Inconsiderate glitches," Sideswipe said, though he felt a glimmer of admiration for that Soundwave guy. He had taken them out - _and_ spared their lives. But why? Was he really heroic, as he had said?

"I don't want to think about it," Sunstreaker grumbled, staggering around the brig. "Oh, Primus," he said. "Sides, get over here."

Sideswipe heaved himself up, letting out a huff of air. "What is it?" he asked.

"It's Bumblebee's blaster," Sunstreaker said. Sideswipe hobbled next to him and looked down at the ground. The blaster was white, but quite a few of them used white blasters, and he didn't think there was anything about it to identify it as Bumblebee's.

"How do you know?" he inquired, kneeling next to it.

Sunstreaker knelt as well. He pointed at some black squares next to the blaster. He didn't say anything and Sideswipe didn't understand the messages he was receiving.

"Lots of us have black hands, too," he said.

"Yes, but look."

Sideswipe got on his hands, leaning in close. He picked one up gently, bringing it up to an optic. Red flecks where imbedded in small gouges in the panel.

Sunstreaker grinned. "Remember when we dunked yellow paint on Cliffjumper and red on Bumblebee?"

Sideswipe understood now. He looked back at the blaster, and glanced around. "Speaking of blasters, have you seen mine?"

"No."

"Then 'Bee won't mind if I take his." He looked at the panels on the floor. "As much as I hate to say it, 'Bee might never need his again."

They didn't say anything else. It was understood; one of their own was in danger, and they would destroy whoever was the cause of it.

* * *

"Ratchet!" Arcee cried, forcing the make-shift medbay's doors wide open. She stumbled blindly into the room, landing into something oh-so-solid. "Ratchet," she said again. She felt arms wrap around her.

"What's the matter, Arcee?" she heard him say.

"Oh, R-Ratchet, it's-it's Red Alert!" Her fingers curled around the corners of his chassis. She couldn't look at his face. It would be horrible. She couldn't say it and look at his face, couldn't, could hardly think it. Saying it would make it too true.

"What's wrong with Red Alert?" he asked, voice holding that gentle note, but she heard the urgency there.

"It-he-" _Say it, say it! _she screamed at her herself. She babbled softly. If she could grasp the words, could she say them? Could she tell him? She had to, she _needed_ to! "You need to come-he-I don't-I don't-he needs-security hub-shot-not sure-_come right away!_ Now!"

She grasped his arm and pulled him out of the room, though he needed no further encouragement.

"What _happened_, Arcee?"

"I can't-"

"Don't worry then. All we need to do is get there."

The halls had suddenly become longer, narrower, threatening to swallow her should she pass through them. But Red Alert needed them, needed Ratchet, and Arcee mentally willed the halls open. They complied.

And then the door was there. She couldn't input the code; her fingers would not allow it. Ratchet quickly tapped at the pad, and they ran into the room.

Ratchet stood there, a few feet in from the door, looking at Red Alert's fallen form.

His face was mostly gone, only a few scraps left on the edges. The bottom of his faceplates were still there, but above the upper lip it was gone, the upper lip itself hanging to the side. She could almost imagine an optic still there, flicking in the blackness that was now the Security Director's head.

His chest was split open, the metal pulled aside with such obvious force. It looked bubbled at the edges, as if it had been boiling, peeling away from the heat. She wanted to see pale blue light pooling weakly into the air near the cavernous maw, but it wasn't there.

Later Arcee would wonder why the same blaster would cause two so vastly different looking wounds, but that was not the Arcee of today. Today she looked at Ratchet and murmured weakly. She didn't know what to say. Instinctively she would have known Ratchet was aware Red Alert was beyond saving, but her instinct had left her when life had left Red Alert's chassis.

Ratchet knelt next to their comrade, giving a show of trying to save him. She wasn't aware who he was trying to relieve the pain of, him or herself. She had always heard stories about how it was the ones you couldn't save that haunted you forever, and she had had similar feelings before. But what was it like, to lose someone when you knew you had the knowledge and the skill to bring them back from the brink?

"Let's haul him back to the medbay," Ratchet said, his voice stern, commanding her as a superior. She was sure Ratchet had known she would respond to authority, and she grabbed Red Alert's arms, and Ratchet his legs.

She couldn't bring herself to look fully at Red Alert. She felt as though she had failed him, and felt looking at him would only reaffirm that. She needed to be strong, strong enough to avenge him.

When her grief was over, she would make his murderer pay, the murderer who had stolen her friend's face.

* * *

_Pop!_

"I hate that," Thundercracker grumbled. He glanced at the walls; burnt-orange. They were now in the _Ark_, enemy territory, and he'd be damned before they stayed longer than necessary. "All right, 'Warp, where did you see this 'white Soundwave'?"

"Uh, in the quarters!" Skywarp squeaked.

They looked around. "Where are the quarters, then?" Thundercracker asked, hating the hopelessness more than anything now.

"I-I don't know!"

"Slaggit, 'Warp!"

"I swear, I don't- you hear that?" Skywarp fell silent, hands in the air defensively, tilting his head from side to side.

Thundercracker didn't say anything, listening carefully. He heard the sound of a generator and shuffling noises of organic pests and air in vents unseen. "What am I supposed to be listening for?"

Skywarp was looking over Thundercracker's shoulder, optics wide, mouth curved in a neutral, scared way, and this bothered him deeply. He turned around, unsure of what he would see.

"Well, well, if it isn't our favourite jet Decepti-creeps!" Sideswipe said, grinning. Sunstreaker said nothing, but something akin to malicious intent flashed in his optics.

"Oh, well," Thundercracker said, ready to level his null rays at them, but for some reason unwilling to. "We were just fiddling around and we were just about to leav-" There was a small _pop!_ He looked behind him where Skywarp once was. "... I'll kill him. I will."

"Not before we kill you!" Sunstreaker growled. The yellow bot lunged at him, and Thundercracker jumped back. Sunstreaker made some vile insults Thundercracker didn't want to think too hard about, and the Seeker turned tail.

He could hear them behind him, their feet hitting the floor with harsh clanging. He was trying to think, but the only time he was in the _Ark_ was when the Decepticons had boarded it forcefully. And that one other time, but that didn't count, and he tried hard not to think about that either. Maybe that's how he was getting through the war, he suddenly realized. He just didn't think about what he had been doing.

He ducked into a corridor, and then another, and he found he wasn't sure if he was going into new places or merely in circles. And the orange looked the same to him, blurring, and it was disorienting him.

There were a pair of doors dented in, open just enough for him to slip through. He ducked in, the room on the other side dark, but he welcomed the cover. The footfalls came closer and he slipped deeper into the room, holding his air cycles.

"He went this way, I saw him!"

"You sure?"

"My pride is wounded, not my optics!"

"Sometimes, Sunny, I don't think it matters with you!"

"Shut up!" He heard a huff.

"Let's just hurry up and move on. I'm not exactly fond of this hallway."

Their sounds disappeared. Thundercracker started his air cycles again, casting a look around the room. Boxes were everywhere, shelves placed haphazardly and not in rows. He looked around the shelves and noticed placemats on the floor. Datapads and minicubes were cast across the room.

He should have picked up a datapad knowing it would hold information for the Decepticon cause, but he knew it was out of his own curiosity. The datapad flickered to life at his touch. His fingers glided over the screen, watching the characters with interest.

Apparently the Autobot Cliffjumper had gone missing a while back, and the top tiers had deemed it a great worry. He must have been gone quite a long time, he thought. The datapad didn't go into much detail, and he wondered if the minicubes were props or if they had been an actual influence during the meetings.

He was guessing props, designed to make any interlopers either discredit information left there, or not bother looking for details that seemed to be missing.

It didn't matter. He needed a way out, and he was positive nothing in the room would help him.

He stuck his head out from between the two doors and looked both ways. No one was coming down the hall screaming "Big bad Decepticon in the base!" so he figured it was fairly safe to come out.

He was walking down corridors, opening doors that didn't require pass-codes and looking in, hoping one led to something he could vaguely remember. He wondered if Skywarp would come back, and if he would look for him. He doubted the last part.

Perhaps the minor distraction of thinking of 'rescue' was a little too much. He bumped into something solid and staggered backwards with an 'oomfph!'

"Scrap," he hissed, "Didn't think I was that out of it."

"Odd, I was just thinking the same thing."

Thundercracker jolted, looking at what, or rather _who_, he bumped into. The Autobot medic eyed him with the same reservation a human does a snake: a creature they are certain can cause harm, but not sure how much harm that is, and aren't entirely sure they want to kill it to begin with.

"You aren't the type to barge in recklessly into the enemy base, if I recall correctly," Ratchet said idly. "That's more of Skywarp's job, isn't it?"

"It's his fault," he said quickly. It was instinctive, and Ratchet's faceplates twitched. If the tension wasn't present, he was sure the medic would have laughed. "Medic, if you don't believe me, I'm being serious. I was minding my own business, organizing datapads, and he burst in wailing about some white Soundwave." He almost threw up his hands in defeat, but suppressed the urge. "I've had it with him, I really have."

"White... Soundwave," Ratchet repeated. He raised an optic ridge.

"Pit if I know." Thundercracker sighed. " 'Warp's probably lost it." He paused. "I'm talking to an Autobot," he said.

"So you are," Ratchet said matter-of-factly.

"I must be losing it, too," he said. "Then again, Skywarp didn't have anything to lose to begin with... So that means..."

"You'd be crazier."

"That would be horrible." Thundercracker sucked in some air, and then released it. "I'm going in the brig, aren't I?"

Ratchet didn't say anything, instead appearing thoughtful. "And it's a civil conversation, too," he finally said.

"What is?"

"This."

Thundercracker fell silent as well. He wasn't sure what the medic was driving at, and this unnerved him. "I suppose it is."

"How unusual," Ratchet observed. "Now, if you don't mind me, I've got a few things to attend to." He looked at Thundercracker, and the Seeker felt very inclined to explain himself.

"I'm just here to find Skywarp, prove to him there's no white Soundwave, and get out. I didn't even want to come here to begin with." _In fact, hopping in my berth and starting today over would be fantastic._ "I was just in my quarters, minding my own business."

"And how can I trust you?"

He couldn't think of anything to say to that. "You can't," he said. "Except I haven't tried to shoot you. And I didn't attack those accursed Autobot twins, even though they _were_ chasing me down the halls screaming bloody murder."

Ratchet's mouth twitched up again. "You should have at least knocked them over the head a few times."

Thundercracker just stared at the medic, mouth gaping. "You, medic, are insane."

"This 'medic' has a name, you know. It's Ratchet. Medic is redundant." He huffed. "And with all the times those two have messed with myself and my medbay..." He stopped, as if suddenly remembering the faction difference. "You didn't hear that."

"Lips are sealed."

"Once again, I have things to attend to." And he started walking past Thundercracker. The Seeker just watched him, and the medic was soon quite a ways down the hall.

The sane voice in his head was screaming "_Yay! Freedom! Now run!_" but the little voice in his head that had grown in strength since he started listening to Skywarp was crying out as well. "_Follow him!_" it said. "_He just left you here to your own devices! Why? Go find out!_"

He let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "Might as well," he said to no one in particular, and followed the medic's path.

* * *

Ratchet entered the make-shift medbay and looked in the corner. Arcee was kneeling next to Red Alert's body, staring at the wall. He saw her fingers lightly grasping her comrade's, and something told him not to intervene. Then he remembered Thundercracker and realized he had to.

He knew he should have stopped the Decepticon there in the hall, but something had always seemed off about Thundercracker, especially after the ruby mines in Burma. Sparkplug had bragged about how he had withstood a blow from 'the big blue one, no, not that one, the jet one,' and this had set Ratchet thinking. There was, of course, the old theory that evil spared a life every now and then, to justify killing millions, but that was reasoning of the insane, and he didn't believe that was the case.

He had told Prime of his suspicions, and Prime had said he noted it as well. It had never gone farther, and he doubted it ever would. Becoming frustrated with it, Ratchet gave up, though with reservations.

"Arcee," Ratchet finally said, quietly. Arcee turned her gaze from the wall and looked at him. "Tell me what's going on here."

"You won't believe it," Arcee said.

"You'll find I can believe a lot of things."

"If I told the truth of it, you might think I'm a little crazy," she said slowly.

He realized she truly thought this and he walked over, kneeling next to her. "Does it have to do with the Key?" he asked. She nodded. "Just for the record, where is it?"

"My quarters," she responded. He nodded, noting the tired tone in her voice.

"Who did this?" he asked. She shifted uncomfortably. "Arcee, you can tell me anything. _Anything._"

"It's someone who stole Bumblebee's body," she told him.

Ratchet didn't say anything for a few nanokliks, processing that. "How did they manage that?" he asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "The last time I saw him was before he went on patrol around the coast. And then he came back, but he was the not-'Bee."

"I see," Ratchet said.

"That's-that's what I was going to tell Red Alert, but _he_ was in there, and Red Alert didn't believe me at first, and then-and then..." Arcee stopped, as if trying to steady herself and failing.

"_Shhhh_," he whooshed lightly, trying to soothe her. He placed a servo on her shoulder. She rolled her shoulder, as if to shrug him off, but it was half-hearted and his servo stayed.

"If I hadn't said anything, Red Alert would still be alive," Arcee said, quietly. She placed a hand to her face, trying to hold in her sorrow that way, but it was working as well as any other previous attempt.

"You don't know that," Ratchet said. He almost reminded her that she was still here, so whoever was in Bumblebee's body was probably not that smart, but he wondered if at this point the intruder was spiting Arcee, instead.

She looked at him. "I'll kill him," she said, voice still quiet. Her face was contorted, and he wasn't sure if she did not want him to order her not to, or to dare him so. After a moment she looked back at Red Alert. "Something's wrong with the world," she continued. "There's a Jazz who is not our Jazz, but acts like him, and the only difference is his face is longer. There's a Soundwave who is nothing like Soundwave; he talks like the humans do who ride the ocean waves on those boards, and he's kind and gentle."

Ratchet thought that over. "Would that Soundwave... happen to be white?" he asked.

Arcee lifted her head, looking at him in shock. "How did you know?" she asked, suddenly suspicious. She narrowed her optics at him.

Ratchet nodded, keeping contact with her optics. "Two of the Decepticon Seekers are here, looking for him. One says to sate the other's curiosity, but I wasn't sure what to make of it."

Arcee stood suddenly. "You _talked_ to one? And you just... let him go?" Ratchet scrambled to his feet, holding his hands up. "_Why? _Why would you _do_ that?"

"Good question," someone rumbled. Arcee jumped, aiming a blaster at the doors of the medbay. Thundercracker watched her with mild curiosity. His arms started up of their own accord, but ended up only crossing in front of his cockpit. "If I wanted to harm you, I would have already done so," he said, which basically meant "I have been standing here for a while, you know."

Had Arcee been human, her cheeks would have flushed in embarrassment. Luckily, she was spared this, and she retained her calm. "Get out," she said, not lowering her armament.

"I can't get out if I don't know where 'out' is."

"Then I'll-!"

"Arcee," Ratchet interrupted. Her glare was turned on him. "It would probably be best if you... found your friends. This is a sensitive situation, and they're probably in trouble."

Something flashed across her face, but it was gone as fast as it had come. "Sure," was all she said. She walked to the door and Thundercracker stepped to the side, giving her a wide berth. Arcee didn't stop watching him, her mistrust obvious, until she was gone, down the hall.

There was a moment of silence, in which Ratchet was going through what had just transpired. "She's a wild one," he finally said.

"Clearly," was Thundercracker's only response. The Seeker walked farther into the room, looking around. He didn't touch anything, nor did he look as though he wanted to; his visage was a mask.

"You followed me," Ratchet said. "Why is this?" He watched Thundercracker seamlessly shift his gaze from the room to him.

"You didn't detain me," he said.

"Did you want me to?"

The joke didn't go well. "No," was the growling response.

Ratchet pressed on. "Then what?"

The Seeker was silent again. He looked back at the room. "What is this?" he asked.

"It used to be a storage room," Ratchet said, slowly, unsure of why he was saying this. "It's now my medbay."

Thundercracker nodded, seemingly satisfied with that. There was another uneasy moment, in which Ratchet silently thought of things he wanted to say, to ask, but never could. _What are you feeling? Insecure? Is that why you're here? The exit's just down a few halls... Does the orange blind you? It does everyone. Ironhide kept telling Prime that there were other metals available..._

Ratchet was startled out of his thoughts when he heard a sound. He looked at Thundercracker, who was holding a fist close to his mouth in an 'ahem' manner. "Not to sound intrusive, but, ah, you appear to have a corpse in your medbay," he said, trying to deadpan.

"It's a _make-shift_ medbay, yes, that _is_ a corpse, _what _are you going to make out of it?" Ratchet said defensively. "_Hm?_"

"Nothing, just stating… the… obvious." He trailed off, and the situation was quickly awkward again.

"Duly noted."

"So, uh, you… want to talk about it?"

"I'd rather not," was all Ratchet said.

"Just trying to help, medic," Thundercracker said, hands up.

"I _said_, my _name_ is - wait, repeat that?"

"Want to talk about it?"

"No, no, the other thing!"

"Oh. Just trying to help?"

"Yeah, that. " Ratchet carefully eyed Thundercracker, as if trying to look for an obvious ulterior motive.

Before either could think of anything to further the already confusing and anguishing conversation, the klaxons sounded for the second time that day. Ratchet looked up, agitation clear on his visage. "Proximity alarm," he said after a moment. "Different tone than the one from before."

"Before?"

"Don't ask." Ratchet placed a hand to his forehead. He muttered something suspiciously like "Fraggin' troublemakers."

Thundercracker glanced in the hall. He saw no one running around, trying to find the reason the alarm went off. After a moment and still no one, he idly said, "It's probably Starscream." He looked back in the room and was met with a questioning look. "He was planning a coup attempt when we left. He's most likely upset by the fact we didn't stick around to listen." He shrugged. "He's a little crazy."

"A little? Any bot can tell he's insane!"

"Well, yes," Thundercracker admitted, "but I guess it's easy to get used to."

Ratchet hissed out air in a sigh. "This is just ridiculous."

* * *

"Wait, wait! Slow down, Prowl! Let me catch my bre - er, just slow down!" Bumblebee huffed. "Actually, I think I'm hit."

Prowl glanced behind him, looking at Bumblebee stumbling in awkward fashion. "What do you mean, you _think_?"

"Well, it hurts, but I don't know where!"

"How does that…? Never mind." Prowl stopped running and looked around. He didn't see anyone, so he figured it was probably safe to stop and, if nothing else, humour Bumblebee. "All right, where does it-"

"I _told_ you, it hurts, but I don't know _where!_" Bumblebee said, looking down at himself. "I think it's a leg."

"A leg," Prowl echoed. He looked at Bumblebee's legs. "Fifty-fifty chance, at least." He debated against kicking a leg, just for 'kicks', but decided the ensuing whining was not worth it. "Get down."

"What?"

"On your aft. It's hard to look at your legs when you're using them," Prowl stated matter-of-factly. Bumblebee just stood there, staring at him. Prowl returned the stare. "Just sit down."

Bumblebee muttered something in a typical manner, before settling down on the floor. Prowl followed him, squatting to the side. He put a servo on Bumblebee's left knee, stabilizing it. "Stop wiggling." The yellow bot bit his lip.

"It tickles."

"No, it doesn't. You're being difficult."

"Dang, caught red-handed." He looked at his leg, watching intently. "So, what's the synopsis?"

"Your vocabulary has improved, for one," Prowl stated off-handedly. "The second is that your balance servo has sustained minor damage." He poked the space where the leg and foot connected and 'Bee squeaked, jerking away. "You should be fine, if you don't fall or anything."

"Or anything?" Bumblebee asked dubiously.

"Like getting shot again," Prowl responded. He stood up, and pulled the yellow speedster to his feet. "It's not that complicated."

"For you! You have magical ninja powers!"

"Once again, it doesn't work like that."

Bumblebee rolled his optics. "Suuuure it doesn't," he said.

"Shut up and let's move, I'm getting to the end of my patience."


End file.
